


The lecture

by heme



Series: Chemistry student Deidara [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Deidara painting nails, M/M, Slight fluff, le blues, shitty lecturers war flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25086058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heme/pseuds/heme
Summary: Deidara has a lecture to attend. But it doesn't seems to go as planned...
Relationships: Deidara/Sasori (Naruto)
Series: Chemistry student Deidara [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813744
Kudos: 11





	The lecture

**Author's Note:**

> I'm running out of satisfactory plots because of an unfortunate crossover between writer's block and an origami fixation (the one on my mind is frankly speaking, a bit disturbing, and quite hard to deliver in the intended fashion), so please, comment down below or message me if you have any ideas. Thank you, my readers, for your support. 
> 
> Viewer's discretion regarding the accuracy of information in this story is advised.
> 
> Enjoy.

Deidara arguably has always been a sloth and will always be.

His conducts and physical appearance illuminates the conclusion that he was a true blond, however, if one were to establish a deeper connection with the person, he was a lot of things, but dumb was a never. For Deidara to be accepted into one of the world’s top institutions of tertiary education without dirty connections below the surface to the admissions office, the information indicates rather well about his intelligence.

For one to create and interpret original art with an inherent meaning, perceptive was an initial condition. Insightfulness was positively correlated with astuteness.

However, an intelligent person grows up lazy. What was the point in labouring day after day over trivial matters according to the menial instructions dished out step – by – step by the schooling system when you can achieve the same with the flick of a finger? It was no doubt completely pointless.

By the time Deidara started his first year at the university, he has already made laziness a habit of his own, and continued to assume that he can waff through his degree with distinction because of his apparent hidden intelligence. Woe was he mistaken. Aside from the fact that the whole management of the university was well aware that the establishment was brimming with equally bright, erudite candidates, the lecturers in the chemistry department were a bunch of unwilling professors, switching every term, who would rather focus on research than teaching. This caused the lectures and the tutorials to match up poorly with one another, and that was only the tip of the iceberg. All of the sudden, self – studying suddenly became a demanded skill that all pampered students were required to master, strongly suggesting to Deidara that bypassing hard work by raw intelligence will not continue to work anymore.

Announced by an increasing rate of hair loss, the blond was about to reach his tipping point when such awareness struck, and the final push was given by one of his tutors in the middle of his first term. “My dog could even answer this,” the tutor sneered. Then the freshman scampered off, about to deliver a bomb threat, until some _consolation_ in his senior of a year, Sasori halted the process. The so - called consolation, or rather _constructive criticism_ with the mutual exchange of flying piles of clay and thrown carving knifes, was dished out by said senior and received _arguably_ nicely afterwards by Deidara.

And that was why Sasori, in his better days, modified Deidara’s timetable to the following in which the blond morosely complied:

“Brat, wake the fuck up at 7 am and stop wasting time. You are a chemistry student, so I think you are well aware that chemistry has the highest dropout rate in the whole university.

Finish your breakfast at 7:15 am. This place is known as ‘University of Self – Studying”, and it is self – explanatory about why is it dubbed like that. Go onto YouTube and listen to the relevant open course lectures. Make notes if needed. For a lecture to be published on the Internet, it must be of better than average quality. Be sure to have a head start on the materials so that there is no need for future catching up.

The earliest lectures start at 9 am. Leave your dormitory at 8:30 am. It takes no more than half an hour by foot to reach the furthest lecture hall. Since the lectures are practically useless aside from giving you an indication of what is the syllabus about, it is best to work on your incomplete problem sets then. The flesh is always in the tutorials. Honestly, the forty grand per year that you pay isn’t for the so – called teaching quality, it’s for the connections that you make.

There are not a lot of labs, as I’ve heard. Allocate a couple hours on a certain day per week to finish the required amount.

When working through your problem set, for every 30 minutes, take a 5 minute break. If there are any inquiries that comes up, do not hesitate to ask, or else an unsolid foundation of concepts will snowball through.

If you want to maintain a high GPA, you have to sacrifice your social life. There are no alternatives. The eight weeks per term, three terms an academic year setup will squeeze you to the extreme.

Sleep at 12 am, brat.”

Adhering to Sasori’s instructions of doom, Deidara packed his belongings, which is frankly not much to begin with, since he digitalised all his handwritten and reading materials on a tablet earlier the week, and departed straight at half past three to his afternoon lecture. Even though Sasori was the one to suggest him the process of digitalisation, the scorpion still kept a couple of hardcover textbooks. When the curious blond investigated the reason behind the choice, Sasori would brush it off as “liquid crystal screens hurts my eyes”, perhaps to hide a far more sinister motive. Much as Deidara would love to deny, he has to admit that Sasori’s directions left him with a fair amount of time to spare on useless endeavours.

Inorganic chemistry. To prepare students of the upcoming second year which includes a core subject of the introduction to organometallics, the department was kind enough to offer lectures on point groups and constructing molecular orbital diagrams through symmetry adapted linear combinations.

Only if the lecturer actually stuck to the syllabus. Ten minutes into the talk of symmetry, the _physical_ chemist managed to transform the topic into moments of masses and consequently moments of inertia as the second moment of mass.

How exactly did the guy pulled the mesh of interwoven rotational constants and symmetries of molecules together has bewildered nearly the entirety of the audience. Half an hour into the two – hour lecture, he declared a finish with “there’s really nothing more to talk about.” One brave soul, obviously baffled by the disorganised outpour of concepts over his head, decided to approach the lecturer with questions, and was quickly dismissed away by “you can read those up on the Internet”. Using the distraction as a cover, Deidara slithered away from the lecture hall back to his dormitory, tablet in his left hand, unnoticed.

It was the perfect time to finish the remaining problem sets assigned him this week. Dinner can wait, as the sculptor’s appetite was quenched with his love of sweets, mostly chocolates from the neighbouring supermarket. Deidara established an equilibrium between his consumption and acquiring of sugary goodness, but it was broken since last week by new periodic additions of high - quality dark chocolates from unpopular brands (the current batch was from Lithuania, Naive was the chocolatier’s name), none of it bought by Deidara. The chemistry student smugly confronted Sasori with the question of “I wonder who gave me all these chocolates, un”, and the redhead was in total denial, scoffing at the idea that someone would actually send chocolates to the disgusting brat.

To maintain the equilibrium, the majority of Deidara’s diet now consists of dark chocolate. It therefore saved the blond the time to have a full meal down at the dining hall. Though it was not exactly healthy to do so, but artisanal dark chocolate was far better than the cheaper alternatives.

By the time Deidara finished his work, it was late – more than half past eight in the evening. Knowing that Sasori, the first experimenter of this schedule, would be free by now, he decided to pay the puppeteer a surprise visit.

Sasori’s dormitory was off the college grounds, a five – minute walk’s distance. The blond brought himself to the corresponding staircase, and reached his destination shortly afterwards. A few desperate knocks on the wooden door was all it takes to see an annoyed Sasori.

“Is it so hard to give me a call before you visit, brat?” Sasori was so conveniently sharpening his carving knife, the exact same “Advanced Engineering Mathematics” that was used to bruise Deidara’s forehead after The Incident standing on the corner of his study desk. Near his nightstand was an open cupboard, inside was a bar of Naive’s Porcini Milk and Domori’s Criollo collections organised in glass boxes. Deidara cocked a brow after seeing the contents inside said cupboard, since the sculptor never publicly displayed, not to mention even share the costly assemblage.

When Deidara is suspicious about something, he will not let it slip, “Danna, why exactly do you have the exact same chocolates as I do, un? Don’t you think it’s too much of a coincidence?”

“Apparently I broke into your room at night and stole your chocolates.” Sasori deadpanned to hide the sense of danger of being exposed.

“Really, un?”

“No. So stop imagining things. Even though imagination is critical for an artist, your play – doh trash can’t be called art.”

“Hmm, Danna, I thought we had a truce over argument number one, or were you trying to prove how mistaken your definition of art is, un?”

“You _thought_. Can’t believe you actually are capable of conducting intelligent thought, brat. Oh, unintelligent delusional rambles masquerading as thoughts are more exact.” Sasori retorted.

“You sound more pissed than usual, Danna. I know just the right way to cheer you up, un!” Deidara smirked, and fumbled throughout his bag to bring out – two bottles of nail polish. One black, and the other pine green.

Sasori frowned, “Don’t. I have sensitive skin.” The engineering student knew that Deidara probably would have brought some latex gloves in order to shut him up and continue on his tormenting, before he was about to use the excuse “I’m allergic to latex”, the blond pulled out a pair of nitrile gloves inside a half – open box.

The blond leered, “Now look, un, I know that you’re allergic to latex, so they are nitrile.” Sasori blanked. No – his dormitory was on the fourth floor, escaping the situation through the window was a solid negative unless he risks fracturing both his legs and worse.

“I thought last time your bodily violation on the cost of me has left you satisfied for at least a while.”

“Look who’s talking, Danna, because according to you, I’m one needy brat, un.”

“Fair point.” Sasori sighed, as he slipped on the pair of nitrile gloves with the fingertips already removed. It was of the exact right size and of amazing quality, the scorpion observed, perhaps ordered from the same supplier as the chemistry department does. Getting his nails painted by the brat would be a torment, but at least he could distract himself by appreciating the pair of nitrile gloves.

Deidara was laying out his setup of torture. He grabbed the bottle of green nail polish, and removed the brush from the screw top, “So, Danna, anything to talk about?”

Sasori gave him a withering stare, “So you carried all this nonsense up here just to have a chat with me? You could do much better than that, brat, maybe mushy things like buying me chocolates or something would be more suitable.”

“Uh uh, maybe, yeah.” Deidara never let that annoying smirk of his fall.

The elder of the two sighed when he felt the cold brush on his fingertips, “You know, brat, my former lab partner transferred away. And now I’m stuck with a total idiot in the practicals.”

Deidara jolted one of his strokes, triggering a warning cough from Sasori, “Komushi transferred away?”

“Indeed. He wrote a letter of apology to me, saying that engineering school isn’t for him. And now even that letter of apology has totally failed its purpose, because I’m stuck with someone who doesn’t know how to use MATLAB.”

Deidara sniggered, “And the new guy actually failed mechanics of materials, un?”

“Nearly. 2 percent over the failing threshold.” Sasori slightly rectified Deidara's claim, “The department thinks that it’ll be a good influence to pair the poorer performing students with the better ones. If they count being driven nearly mad by an idiot a good influence, then I think it’s a total waste of time arguing with them. Komushi is an idiot, but he is nothing when compared to this Kankurou.”

“Well, Danna, serves you right for being a jerk, un.” The sculptor grinned, showing the full set of his teeth. Sasori, after hearing this remark, withdrew his hands from the blond’s hold, of which Deidara protested loudly, “Hey!”

Sasori chuckled. Then he let out a long exhale, “I could literally hear Kankurou’s jabber when he sees my nails.” The redhead jostled around with his voice, succeeding in finding a satisfactory annoying tone, and he screeched, “Duuuude! Akasuna, I don’t know you have it in you!” He gestured at his pine – green nails, raising a couple of painted fingers, while pressing his face right on top of the new addition of colour in mock observation, “This is soooo gay!”

The chemistry student cackled, “Never cared about what people has to say, Danna, un?”

“I don’t. This is only because Kankurou’s presence infuriates my patience. I’ll show you what does that mean exactly.” Sasori used the gloved side of his hand to raise the lid of his laptop, and flattened his fingers so that no specks of nail polish were stuck to the keyboard, then opened a MATLAB document. He pointed at the lines of code, “This is our newest practical. Kankurou is useless at both rough work and modelling, so as you can see, the code is completely of my handiwork. At least Komushi’s codes were salvageable. Now it’s double the pain because practicals are collaborations, each individual in a pair are issued identical grades no matter the difference in relative contributions.”

Just when Sasori saved and closed the file, there was an incoming call to the puppeteer. It was nobody else than the aforementioned Kankurou. Sasori was about to bury his face into his hands, then was reminded about the fact that his painted nails were not dry yet. Deidara, being the helpful brat as always, picked up the call for Sasori and handed the redhead his device. Before both men could reply, the voice of Kankurou intercepted all supposedly nonexistant preparations, “Akasuna! Bro!” Sasori rolled his eyes at this verbal beatdown while Deidara bit on his lips to hide the overwhelming chuckles. Upon the intrusion, Sasori toyed with the thought of repetitively hammering his head on the desk, but in preference stared at thin air so that he may brace for impact, until the follow – up question of collision arrived, “How to plot a vector field in MATLAB?”

Only eliciting a blank reply from the scorpion, fingers on his right hand continuously defiled nonstop by slimy wavering brush strokes oscillated by Deidara’s quivers of poorly – hidden laughter, “You can google it. Goodnight.” And ended the call using his free hand in advance of Kankurou’s onslaught of complaints.

A few seconds later, there was another buggeration from the tattooed malediction. Sasori hung up without thinking, pondered all the future results for a minute, and blocked the number by smooth awkward movements to avoid unwanted interactions between paint and machinery. Deidara’s low giggles became a fully – erupt guffaw at the sight, the so goddamn Sasori being a dick to virtually anyone sight.

Deidara managed to calm his outburst down through wheezed breathing, “Danna?”

“Yes, brat?”

“The lecturer in my afternoon lecture pretty much walked out after 30 minutes, un.”

Sasori blew on his painted nails to accelerate the drying process, “Sounds like a normal day to me. Nothing surprising.”

“And he was talking about moments of inertia when the topic’s on point groups, un.”

“Ungrateful brat. You should take yourself fortunate if he hasn’t talked about mathematical group theory.” Sasori’s sadistic smile was disturbing, “Speaking of which, group theory lover Itachi used one – half of my face cream he borrowed last week. He’s probably blind enough to read ‘face cream’ as ‘body cream’, and I never thought his eyesight even with contacts is that bad.”

“Way to be a hypocrite, Danna, un.” Deidara twirled Sasori’s pair of reading glasses between two fingers with an aggravating smirk.

The puppeteer returned Deidara’s irritating sly smile, “If you do think that my eyesight is as bad as Itachi’s, brat, then I think the nail polish solvent has finally gotten to your non - existent brain.” The insulted man let out a slight ‘tch’, declaring his paint – job complete by screwing back the cap. Sasori wondered for a while did Deidara actually brought a UV lamp along to accelerate the solidification process. Most likely not, as the sculptor rarely thought things through.

Deidara grinned, “There, un! Finished!”

“Eighty bucks brat, no please.” Sasori smirked.

“What?” Deidara nearly screamed.

“My hourly rate for being your test subject.”


End file.
